


To Choose Another Guide

by scoop-of-shirbert (Miss_Mortimer)



Series: Bartending!AU [3]
Category: Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery, Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe: Season 1 Episode 5 “Tightly Knotted to a Similar String”, F/M, Fluff, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-12
Updated: 2017-10-12
Packaged: 2019-01-16 13:58:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12344067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Mortimer/pseuds/scoop-of-shirbert
Summary: Gilbert Blythe is an aspiring doctor, with an overeager fan club, making ends meet by working as a bartender just off campus. Anne Shirley is a second year entry student, who's covering the cost of tuition with shifts at the same bar. This is a sequel (of sorts) to He was First to Recognize Me, and occurs in the same universe as As Much Soul As You. Also known as, "Diana Barry is a Great Best Friend" and "The Heart Wants What it Wants (Especially After Drinking)".





	To Choose Another Guide

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yesshirbert](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yesshirbert/gifts).



> Special thanks to bebethsas (tumblr) for helping with the concept. This has not been edited by a second party, so if you catch an error, please be nice enough to let me know (I will have inevitably missed something). 
> 
> "I'll walk where my own nature would be leading. It vexes me to choose another guide."
> 
> Jane Eyre, Charlotte Brontë

Anne Shirley did not _necessarily_ pride herself on her alcohol tolerance. A penchant for stiff drinks (acquired with some assistance by Matthew Cuthbert) and a talent for mixing them had gotten her behind the bar. She felt exposed on the other side.

However, Josie had insisted, Ruby had eagerly followed, and Diana— _oh, Diana_ —had apologetically looked Anne’s way. After nearly a full term together, she was helpless to resist the lethal social pressure.

So, she had begrudgingly donned some eyeliner and followed. She had barely made it out of their room when Diana came lunging at her with lip gloss in hand. _Anne, the plan has changed, she—_ meaning Josie— _wants to head to Billy Andrews’ instead._ Josie Pye’s eternal quest to snatch a husband—or at least a boyfriend to order around for the time being—so often landed the girls at off-campus parties.

  _Again?_ Anne wasn’t sure she could endure another round. Once a month would be too often. Diana’s face rested back into the sympathetic look again. _Well, Ruby can’t be persuaded out of it, so we’re stuck. Let’s try to make the best of it, alright? Maybe we can find another less crowded room to hide in?_

Diana’s optimism, admirable as it was, only made the situation worse. An hour and a half in, with more intoxicated students pouring in by the minute, and the duo found themselves awash in a sea of sweaty people. Josie and Ruby had disappeared before, separately of course, and likely headed to different ends. Josie had slipped off to prestigious company almost immediately after arriving. Anne hoped she was alright, but not enough to warrant a search party. Ruby had been whisked away by some girls she knew from some social function or another, all glitter and sparkles. The giggling gaggle had thankfully left as soon as it came, off to pucker and pout in front a camera no doubt.

That left Diana and Anne, steadily working their way around the room. After a while, Anne found herself before the makeshift bar, trying to swiftly concoct something for the two of them. She didn’t like to leave Diana in their little corner all by herself, struck by the same fear which haunted most at parties like these—unwelcome attention. The selection was poor, and the sparse choices seemed to have no relation to one another at all. Simplicity would be the key. Anne grabbed an unopened bottle of raspberry seltzer—after checking the cap to be sure it wasn’t tampered with—some gin, and some cranberry juice. Two empty cups joined the spoils and she retreated.

She returned to Diana with her spoils, _I love bright red drinks, don’t you? They taste twice as good as any other color_.

Mostly, the pair stood off in the corner and tried to ward off involved conversation while not appearing, as Diana had put it, as _too anti-social or sulky_. Anne would not have minded being either. The acquaintances of theirs—or rather, of Diana’s—that circled by them seemed to flash in a blur. Anne found herself sipping more and more often, so as to avoid the small talk. A valid technique, it still had its consequences. Anne felt herself slowly slipping past tipsy. Diana, who had been bordering the line between attentively polite and quietly listening, was becoming chattier with her rising blood alcohol level.

By half past twelve, or sometime after, the two girls resembled their roommates more than themselves.

— — —

Gilbert Blythe was in fact enjoying his quiet night in, regardless of what his friends said. Quiet, but not peaceful; as the remnants of his third week of illness were refusing to subside. Anne had also not answered his message. He considered the lack of a reply an improvement on the situation, so the cold shoulder wasn’t the _worst_ outcome.

His sniffles and sneezes, and generally poor health gave him a great deal of time to ruminate on the circumstances. _That anyone should be so lucky._

Gilbert also had the spectacular fortune to have a caring, sympathetic boss, and a cute coworker to come and deliver his paychecks. How exactly Anne had been coerced into delivering his paycheck was unknown, but she had been. Early one afternoon, she had come by with her braids tidy and the most impudent blank expression he’d ever seen. If he weren’t physically deteriorating, it looked as if she would have torn him apart on the spot.

He’d opened the door, wrapped in a blanket and feeling on death’s doorstep, rather than his own. His hair was un-brushed and unwashed, sticking in several different directions, and felt oily as he reached to adjust his covering. If Anne’s face fell slightly, presumably from a scowl or a sneer, then that was that. She had held out the envelope, and curtly said, _I’ve been asked to deliver this. So, here. I hope you don’t die. Goodbye._

He hadn’t managed to get a word in. In the six days since, not that he’d been counting, he’d considered every variation of response.

And so, here he was, sitting on his couch, wasting away over a girl who _didn’t want him to die_ , at least.

— — —

The driver did not seem pleased with their antics. _Antics._ _What a funny word…_ _Anne-tics._ Anne giggled to herself, leaning onto Diana for support. The other girl was enveloped in sweetly singing Christmas songs again.  

The pair were sprawled across the back seat. Diana’s arm looped behind Anne’s head, both girls leaning into one another. They had danced, and twirled their way into the cab, all the while chittering away.

Anne felt the girl next to her stiffen, and turned to look. Diana was looking directly at her now, eyes focused, overwhelmed with emotion. _Anne, Love you so much; I will never love anyone as I love you._ Diana was expressive when sober… but the welling tears in her eyes were still unexpected.

 _Oh, Diana_ , Anne sighed, _I thought you liked me, but I never hoped you’d love me_ —

The other girl reached over and threw herself around Anne, wrapping her in a tight embrace. _I love you, I love you, I love you Anne Shirley. You’re so smart, and cute, and witty, and pretty_ —Diana giggled at that _._

Anne began to laugh as well, barely sputtering between breathes, _You’re so beautiful, and kind… and you have the biggest heart in all of Avonlea… and I will always you, Diana Barry._

Anne was still laughing at her own silliness when Diana started singing again. _Hark the herald angels sing, glory to the newborn king!_

Anne wasn’t sure it was close enough to Christmas for caroling, but Diana looked like an angel, so it was probably alright to sing about them. The two girls were getting louder and louder, incoherently singing bits of the song in unison. _Joyful all thee nations rise… triumph of the skies… peace on earth, and mercy mild… hark the herald angels sing!_

Admittedly, Marilla would probably be ashamed of the spectacle.

When the driver stopped, Diana was kind enough to hand him some money, and the gleeful duo clamored out onto the street. It wasn’t until the driver had sped off that Anne took a careful look at their surroundings. _Diana, this isn’t ours._

The other girl tilted her head and looked at her, _why would you give the driver an address that wasn’t ours? Of course, we’re home, silly bean, we’ll just ring the bell and Ruby will come and get us. C’mon, I want to sing again._

Diana pulled her up to the door, and started knocking to the beat of her new choice in carol, _You better watch out, you better not cry, you better not bout, I’m telling you why._

— — —

Gilbert’s quiet night in abruptly ended at half past midnight. The knocking at his door was surprising enough, but opening it to find Anne Shirley and her friend Diana on the other side was enough of a shock to wake a corpse. _Are you alright?_

Diana, whose last name Gilbert would have to recall at another time, abruptly started singing what sounded like a very loud, off-key rendition of that Christmas pop song that always played in the department stores in December. To make matters worse, she then started to dance, right there on his doorstep. He looked over at Anne, hoping for an explanation, but she only furrowed her brow. _Oh, Diana, why is dumb Gilbert Blythe answering our door?_

She then leaned over to her friend, placing her hand in front of her face, and whisper shouting, _Did Ruby finally get him to sleep with her?_

This time, it was Gilbert’s turn to laugh. He cajoled the girls inside, with a great deal of herding and promises of marshmallows for Diana, on the terms that she stopped twirling.

After twenty minutes of struggling, she had finally agreed to postpone the marshmallow snack for the morning, and Diana was fast asleep on his couch. Anne was curled up next to her, or rather, around her, but still very much awake, if her murmuring was any indication.

He’d gone to get himself a cup of tea, and sat on the floor listening to her with a stupid grin. _Dumb Gilbert is always everywhere… I don’t want to see his dumb, handsome, dumb face ever again. He and his dumb drinks, and his dumb brain, and his dumb hands, and his dumb… dumb Gilbert always ruining everything by being in my head… go away Gilbert… I’m trying to sleep._

Gilbert took that as his cue, and headed to his room—but not without sparing one last glance at the girl cuddled up on his couch.

— — —

Several months later, Anne Shirley awoke on a familiar couch, with a headache and a mixture of shame, regret, and hangover nausea settling in her stomach. The cheery sound of birds, and Gilbert Blythe whistling from the kitchen, only worsened her mood. _Not this again. I really have to stop ending up here._

The offending host stuck his head into the room, smiling too brightly for someone who had to play caretaker to his drunk sort-of-friend (not that Anne would ever admit that) again. _Good morning, sunshine. Welcome to back to the land of the living. How are you feeling?_

Anne could only groan, which did not seem to affect his chipper mood.

Gilbert handed her a glass of water, which she was silently thankful for. _You’re welcome, Anne._

 _Maybe not so silently after all._   She quickly gulped it down, and avoided eye contact. _He had the nerve to laugh at that!_

_I’ve already called Diana and let her know that you came over here again. Are you going to stay for breakfast this time, or do you plan to storm off again?_

Gilbert’s grin at the end made the entire exchange more humiliating, and if it wasn’t for the smell of bacon wafting in, Anne would _absolutely_ have stood up there and then and left. _Without a doubt… well, maybe a little bit of doub—but that was only her stomach talking!_

 


End file.
